The Not So Royal Romance
by Vaalco
Summary: After months of scandal and betrayal, Cordonia finally has a queen. But once the celebrations wind down, there are still many pieces to pick up and wounds to heal. The kingdom is still reeling from terrorist attacks, assassination attempts and natural disasters. Once again the lives of the remaining nobles are turned upside down by unsuspecting Americans.
1. Before The Once Upon A Time

**A/N: Lord help me, I downloaded this game to alleviate my soul crushing boredom and now it is a guilty pleasure I hide from the world. Thank God for anonymity...**

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Lightening flashed overhead, illuminating the dark, ominous clouds hanging in the sky. Booming thunder followed soon after, barely heard over the pounding of Olivia's heart in her ears. She shivered slightly, an involuntary action that had nothing to do with the cold despite the fact that the rain had soaked her straight to the bone.

She stared at the man in front of her, trying to find the words that would adequately express what was going on in her head, but for the first time in her life she found that words failed her. Speechlessness was a new experience for Olivia, and she did not very much care for the feeling. Her signature biting sarcasm was her go-to weapon for situations like this, and she did not care to be left unarmed.

He continued to stare at her, his piercing blue eyes penetrating her soul. His white T-shirt clung to him, revealing the muscular frame underneath, a vision that she would carry with her no matter how the next few moments played out.

"Olivia," he said taking a tentative step towards her. "I know my place in this world, and that has always been enough for me. I'm not poor, but I can't give you a kingdom. I don't have the first clue on how to navigate a conversation with a foreign diplomat, and God help me, I will never understand this country's obsession with apples. I can't give you everything that you deserve. But the one thing I can give you, can't be bought with money. So all I can do is offer you this, and pray that it's enough."

Before she had a chance to respond, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers in a hungry kiss. The world around them faded away, the warmth of his lips spreading through her like fire. His tongue found hers, engaging in a passionate and heated battle for dominance.

Before she could grasp what was happening, her arms wrapped around his neck, desperately trying to get closer to him. She felt his massive arms wrap around her waist in a tight, yet painfully gentle embrace. For the first time in her life, Olivia did not care that she was duchess. Her family name, title, and any other accomplishments were now a moot point as the rain and the heat from the kiss washed the world away.

 _Damn these Americans..._

Hana bit her lip nervously, trying to summon the courage to say what was in her heart. She had spent her whole life following someone else's rules and wishes and never once had she asked for anything for herself. Now she was staring into the expectant eyes of the only thing she had ever wanted for herself, and for the life of her she could not voice exactly what is was that she wanted.

"Hana, what is it?" The voice held the gentle familiarity that she had come to love. It was filled with a genuine concern that Hana was not used to experiencing. This person had crashed into her life like a tidal wave, bringing into question everything that Hana had built her life on. They had opened her eyes to a world of wonder and possibility, something that Hana had long ago given up hope of ever experiencing.

Her heart gave the familiar flutter that always came when they were together. She still felt the whisper of the kiss on her lips, even after they had parted. Being around them was intoxicating, she felt as if she had just taken her first breath after a lifetime of drowning. This was her moment, her chance to reach out and take the only thing that she had ever wanted for herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words would not come.

"Hana?" The voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

She closed her eyes, turning her head away in an effort to find her bearings. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid thumping of her heart.

"I...I want...you..."

Silence fell between them for several moments, only the distant booming of thunder penetrating the quiet room. Hana nervously looked into the eyes she had come to love, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of love looking back at her. A wide smile slowly spread across their face, filling Hana's heart with a warmth she never knew was possible.

Hana could not help but smile back, her heart feeling lighter than she ever remembered it feeling. They pulled her against them, holding her close as their lips found hers with a passion that threatened to take the breath from her chest.

 _So, this is what it feels like..._


	2. Once Upon A Time In Los Angeles

Connor Brooks sat in the endless sea of Los Angeles traffic, absently drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. He didn't mind the wait, it gave him a rare opportunity to be alone with his thoughts. As a well-known talent manager, it was his job to seize every opportunity to boost his the image of his clients, rather it was making a public appearance at a charity auction or taking part in a benefit concert.

It was not often that he was excited after a long day of work, but today had presented him the opportunity that he had been chasing for the better part of a year. It was the chance to repair the image of one of his most famous clients whose career had been somewhat on the rocks ever since a tragic accident had all but destroyed her image. It was an especially devastating blow to him since the person in question also happened to be his sister.

Sawyer Brooks was at the height of her career when that fateful accident occurred. She and their youngest sister Peyton had been out for a drive one night, enjoying the freedom that Sawyer's new found success had brought them. Seemingly overnight, they had gone from living in a rat infested meth house with their mother, to the heart of Beverly Hills. Somewhere along the way, Sawyer's car had failed to stop at a stop sign, running straight through and ultimately crashing into the driver's side of a passing car. At the end of it all, the driver had been left paralyzed and Sawyer had faced a swarm of scrutiny by the press and legal fees that amounted to a small fortune.

At least, that was the story the press and the rest of the world now believed. The only ones who knew that actual events of that night had vowed to never reveal the information to anyone; they had all taken an oath to take the secret to the grave, deeming the consequences too severe if the truth were to come out.

So Sawyer had taken full responsibility for the event, quietly stepping out of the spotlight and living as a virtual recluse for the better part of a year. She had denied any and all interview requests, stayed off of all platforms of social media, and rarely left her Beverly Hills apartment. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Sawyer Brooks had dropped off the face of the earth. Her label had dropped her, and nobody was jumping at the chance to sign her for fear of damaging their own reputation.

But now there was an opportunity for a comeback, not just for Sawyer but for Connor as well. It had become increasingly more difficult for him to secure clients ever since Sawyer's perceived offenses had become international news. Even the up and coming artists were wary of signing on with him, not wanting to have their career tarnished by the Brooks name so early in their careers. But this opportunity was just what they needed to get both of them back in the game.

He was so certain of it that he had immediately agreed without consulting Sawyer first. That was part of the reason he was in no particular hurry to get of traffic today; he was positive that Sawyer would not take kindly to the news. She had accepted her new found solitude, having made it clear that she was perfectly content to live out the rest of her life that way.

It was not often that Connor used the big brother slash manager card, but this was one of the few occasions that his gut instinct would trump her feelings on the matter. He mentally prepared himself for the verbal spar they were about to engage in.

All too soon, he was inching towards the exit that would take him to Sawyer's upscale apartment. The sun was sinking low on the horizon as he cruised along the lesser used side roads.

It was the end of another perfect California day. Twilight had always brought Connor a sense of peace; it was a time when the world finally started to quiet down, and if you listened close enough you could almost hear the heartbeat of the city as residents and tourists alike forgot about their worries and engaged in the nightlife.

He pulled his Bentley up the front of the building handing his keys over to the valet as he mulled over how he was supposed to convince Sawyer to willingly go along with him. Bribery would do him no good, Sawyer had every creature comfort she could possibly want. Besides that, she had never been a materialistic person, so even if he had something to barter with he knew she would never take it.

The walk towards the elevator seemed to take forever, as things usually do when you are dreading the destination. He punched the number to Sawyer's floor, silently ignoring the passengers that came and went as the elevator made numerous stops on the way up.

He watched the numbers slowly ticking upwards, feeling the strings of doubt start to grip at his heart. He had been so focused on the goal that he had not thought about how his spur of the moment decision would impact Sawyer or their relationship.

Their relationship had been complicated ever since they were children. He knew she still resented him for leaving to join the marines when he was out of high school, and it was only recently that they had begun to patch things up. He wasn't entirely sure how she would react to him making such a big decision without at least consulting her about it.

The elevator dinged, interrupting his thoughts.

Too late to turn back now.

He stepped off the elevator, dragging his feet down the hallway towards her apartment. He stopped outside her door, squaring his shoulders to give an air of confidence that he did not feel.

He pulled the spare key from his pocket, hesitating for a moment before forcing himself to put it in the door. The lock clicked immediately, signaling that he had reached the point of no return.

The apartment was pitch black; which had been Sawyer's preferred method of living. It seemed as if she wished to forget that the world continued to exist outside of the four walls. She had truly embraced the role of pariah.

Countless empty soda bottles, pizza boxes and other forms of trash littered the hard wood floors of the once immaculate apartment. It was an appropriate metaphor for the direction that Sawyer's life had gone.

A wave of guilt washed over Connor as he waded through the garbage. He did not visit his sister as often as he should, preferring to drown his own sorrows in the little bit of work he managed to find. Sawyer would never say the words out loud, but it was painfully obvious that she was struggling to find her way again.

He made his way down the hallway to the master bedroom, trying to step around the trail of garbage rather than walk directly through it. For all the good it did as the floor seemed to be nothing but trash.

He opened the door without bothering to knock. The room was dark as night, the black out curtains effectively drowning out any sunlight that might try and seep into the room. He ran his hand along the wall, blindly searching for the light switch.

The room was immediately filled with a bright light, eliciting an angry grunt from Sawyer. A poorly aimed pillow missed Connor's head by several inches, causing him to chuckle in spite of himself.

"I would say 'good morning' but it's three in the afternoon."

"You'd be lying anyway," Sawyer said pulling the blankets over her head. "And give me my key back."

"No point, I made a spare a long time ago."

"You can go now."

"Come on, Peanut." He said, using his childhood nickname for her. "Is that anyway to treat your brother? I missed you."

"The phone works both ways."

"Fair enough. But I'm here now and not leaving until we talk. So, the sooner you get up the sooner you can go back to your beauty sleep."

Sawyer mumbled under her breath, but years of experience told him there was at least one obscenity mixed in with the grunts.

Satisfied that he had won this round, he made his way to the kitchen. He sat on one of the barstools, frowning as he looked around the room. Sawyer had always sworn that when she had her own place, it was be clean and the precise opposite of the environment that they had grown up in. He felt another pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it away. It wouldn't do either of them any good for both of them to dwell on their mistakes.

He heard footsteps a few moments later, her quiet curses echoing in the hall as she kicked the garbage aside.

"I thought Maria came on Tuesdays." Connor said, referring to aging housekeeper.

"She does." Sawyer said stepping into the kitchen. She had thrown her long brown hair into a hasty ponytail; several strands of hair poked out at odd angles, indicating she had not bothered to run a brush through it. Her oversized black hoodie fell below her waist, almost covering the bright green gym shorts she had owned since high school. Her green eyes were no longer bright and full of life, but dark and haunted, making her seem older than her twenty-five years.

"I see you dressed up." Connor said teasingly.

Her reply came in the form of a rude hand gesture. He smirked slightly, grateful that no matter what happened she would always be his annoying little sister.

"So, I got an interesting call today." He said, testing the waters.

Sawyer opened the door to the refrigerator, rummaging through the contents. "So, your phone does work."

"Mm, okay I deserve that one. Anyway, it was long distance from Cordonia."

"Cor-what?" Sawyer responded, taking a slice of pizza from the box in the refrigerator.

Connor grimaced inwardly as he watched Sawyer devour the cold pizza in only three bites. "Cordonia. Remember? It was all over the news when the King married an American a few months ago."

"Oh, yeah. Not exactly Harry meets Megan but it got people's attention."

Connor hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

"Anyway, the country has had a hell of a year: terrorist attacks, the assassination of their former king, massive flooding along the coast line. And a group of extremists burned down an apple orchard that had been standing for over a hundred years."

Sawyer raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Apparently apples are a point of national pride." Connor said with a shrug.

"That's all very tragic," Sawyer said taking another slice of pizza. "But why did they call you? You're not exactly good at the comforting thing."

Connor noted the meaning behind her words but chose to ignore it. "Actually, they called about you. There's been almost no media coverage about any of it. They saw how you rallied to help people here when the hurricanes happened and they thought you might be able help."

Sawyer let out a laugh that held no trace of humor. "They must be truly desperate if they are coming to me for help."

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Connor replied. "But for all of the negative press you've received, you're still popular over there."

"It wasn't negative press Connor, someone's life was ruined because-"

"I know," he said cutting her off. "My point is that despite all of that, you still have a gift for stuff like this."

"Stuff like what?" Sawyer said hesitantly.

"Bringing people together. You have a way of inspiring people to get involved and help those less fortunate. People listen to you."

"They used to," Sawyer said with a sigh. "Look, even if I wanted to, I don't know if I have it in me anymore. I've spent the last year having my every move scrutinized by the world, what makes you think that anyone would listen to me? They're more likely to laugh in my face."

"These people seem to think you still have what it takes. You're not defined by your past, you can take back control of your life and show people that you're better than that."

Sawyer still looked unconvinced, but Connor could tell that he had gotten through to her, at least on a small scale. "And besides," he continued, "everyone loves a comeback story."

"No, they love scandal and picking apart every detail until they find their own version of the truth that they can live with."

"I think you're being a bit dramatic," Connor said getting to his feet. "And anyway, I already agreed. So you better start packing because we leave in a few days."

Sawyer stared at him with a mixture of shock, fear, and more than a little rage. "You did what? "

"You heard me. I said yes. You've done enough wallowing in self pity."

"You're cracked! You can't just-"

"Actually, I can. It's in the contract. I've stood by you and done damage control for the last year, but not anymore. It's time you stopped feeling sorry for yourself and took an interest in something. Besides, it's for a good cause and you'll thank me one day."

He made his way to the door, pausing for a moment in the threshold. "Oh, one more thing. I also said you would write a song for the occasion so you may want to dust off the piano and get to work."

He left before she had the chance to respond, but as he walked towards the elevator he could vaguely hear her angry screams following him down the hallway.

He entered the elevator, unable to prevent a satisfied smirk from creeping over his face. He pulled out his phone and immediately began to research the country. It was his job to be prepared for anything, and the first step to being prepared was research.

Little did he know that some things you can never truly be prepared for, no matter how many travel websites you visit.


	3. Not Always Golden

Three days had passed since the conversation in Sawyer's apartment. Connor had made the travel arrangements and ensured that Sawyer was at the airport when she was supposed to be, a small miracle seeing as how Sawyer had blatantly ignored his texts and calls. They had boarded the plane without incident and aside from some mild turbulence, things had gone relatively smoothly. This would normally be when he would brief his clients on the finer details of the event and work out any kinks that had popped up.

However, seventeen hours later, there was still radio silence on Sawyer's end. She had not so much as breathed in his direction, despite the fact they were only inches apart. If he were not so uncomfortable with the situation, he would admire her ability to hold a grudge.

He shot yet another nervous glance in Sawyer's direction, but her attention remained stubbornly fixated out the window. He knew it had nothing to do with the view, as the scenery for the last several hours had been nothing more than thick clouds that blocked out the rest of the world. The silence was deafening, and he found himself wishing she would scream at him just to break the tension.

Normally, he would not give her attitude so much as a second thought. Broody and intense had been trademarks of Sawyer's personality ever since they were kids. They were traits that had ultimately proven to be beneficial to her public image as it gave her an air of mystery and angst that the public had immediately embraced. The media had dubbed her the tough girl with the heart of gold as she had proven to be both charitable and approachable when it came to charity work. Despite her intense demeanor, she was quick to get involved with disaster relief and was the first to sign up for a charity event, particularly when she felt a personal connection to the cause.

There was a level of depth and emotion to her music that made it easy for people from all walks of life to connect with. Rather it was an angry guitar riff, a soothing ballad, or an elegant piano piece, there was no denying that Sawyer Brooks had something to offer everyone. She had been on the cover of magazines, opened for the Grammy Awards, even wrote a song for the biggest movie of the summer. She was a household name, and when she spoke people everywhere would listen.

But that was Sawyer before the infamous car accident. Once the media had stopped hounding her and the tabloids had moved on to the next scandal, all that was left of Sawyer Brooks was a shell of who she used to be, someone that she herself would barely recognize if she bothered to look. He would never say the words out loud, but it hurt him to see her so lost.

Any other day, Connor would sit back and allow her to be swept away with whatever thought was currently consuming her. But after seventeen hours of sitting next to each other on a plane without so much as a look in his direction, he felt his resolve weaken.

He cleared his throat, but she continued to stare blankly out the window. "Can I talk to you, please?" He said with a sigh.

"It's a free country," Sawyer responded without looking at him. "Or maybe it's not. I have no idea where the hell we are."

"How long are you going to give me the silent treatment?"

"If I tell you then it defeats the whole purpose"

"Okay, I know you're mad-"

Sawyer barked out a humorless laugh. "Mad? Why would I be mad? You only dropped this on me without bothering to ask me what I thought, dragged me out of the country to a place that has almost no hits on any search engine, and informed me I have to write a song when I haven't so much as looked at a piano or guitar in over a year. Why would anyone be mad?"

Connor ran his hand over the back of his neck in the same way he always did when he was uncomfortable or stressed. "Okay, look, I know I should have talked to you first. But you would have just said no, and I really think this is your chance to-"

"Oh, don't act like you did this for me." Sawyer said acidly. "I'm not an idiot Connor, I know people aren't jumping at the chance to work with you. This is just as much about rebuilding your clientele as it is trying to repair what little remains of my career."

"Alright, fine." Connor conceded. "Maybe a selfish part of me thought it would be good publicity for me. But, it doesn't matter if you believe me or not. It's deeper than that. Music was the only thing you ever excelled at."

"Gee, thanks."

"That's not what I meant. I mean whenever mom bothered showing up, or whenever dad..." his voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He felt Sawyer stiffen slightly next to him, but she remained silent. Their parents-particularly their father-was a sore subject for all of them. It was a painful memory that was best left in the past.

"Look, my point is that music was the one thing that kept the spark in you alive. Without it, I don't think we'd sitting here having this discussion. But you haven't picked up a guitar in over a year. I don't want to see you throw away something that potentially saved you and Peyton."

Sawyer chewed on her lip thoughtfully. It was true that her passion and talent had provided a lifeline for her to escape with their younger sister. It was the thing that pulled them out of the situation they were in, and the thing that was now paying for Peyton's education at Brown University.

"I know that you hated me for leaving," Connor continued. "And I know you might not believe me, but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could make enough money so when I came back I could-"

"I know," she said, cutting him off. "We've been over this. You did what you had to do."

"Yeah. I guess I still feel guilty about leaving you behind. I should have been there to protect you both. I know you did what you could to keep dad-"

"If I say I forgive you and I don't blame you anymore will you shut up?" Sawyer interrupted. Her voice was solemn, but he could see the shadows of a smirk at the corners of her mouth. "I have enough on my mind without the trip down terrible childhood memory lane."

Connor smiled faintly, a sense of relief washing over him. "Deal."

The overhead seat belt light came on, signaling they were about to touch down. A break appeared in the clouds, finally allowing a glimpse of the scarcely known country below. The picturesque landscape was something out of a renaissance painting; the flowers and trees impossibly bright against the greenery of the rolling hills. The architecture was unlike anything either of them had ever seen before, giving the impression they had just stepped into a story book. Even the sky seemed to be a different shade of blue, which was no doubt due the lack of smog that was usually seen hovering over Los Angeles.

The whole country was unlike anything the Brooks siblings had ever seen before and it filled them with a sense of wonder neither of them had ever experienced before.

Sawyer raised her eyebrows, glancing over her shoulder at Connor. "Do you feel like we just flew to a Disney movie?"

"Does that make you Belle?"

Sawyer snorted. "Belle? Seriously? Could you pick a more insipid Disney princess?"

"What's wrong with Belle?"

"Besides the fact that she whines about needing adventure and marries a rich guy just outside of her hometown?"

Connor smirked. "Yeah, you're right. You're more like Gaston."

Sawyer punched him in the shoulder, a smile briefly flashing across her face before being replaced by her signature broody expression. She took a deep breath as the wheels finally touched down on the tarmac.

"I guess it's too late to turn back." She said quietly.

"I love you Peanut, but there is no way I am spending another seventeen hours siting next to you. It'll be fine. Trust me."

Sawyer glared at him. "I really hate it when you say that."


	4. Bougie Cats And Apple Baskets

"I thought you said this was low-key!" Sawyer said somewhat horrified as she stared out the window of the small plane.

They had barely touched down after nearly an entire day of flying, and for the first time they were given a glimpse of what awaited them on the outside. A large crowd had gathered on the tarmac, separated by a length of velvet rope and security guards every few paces. The crowd chatted with each other, an excited energy radiating off them as they waited for Sawyer to step off the plane. Some of them held brightly decorated signs and posters waving them around excitedly. Others busied themselves with taking numerous selfies, no doubt posting them to some form of social media trying to rake in the likes.

"It is. I mean it's not _that_ many people." Connor said, running his hand over his neck nervously.

"Maybe not to _you_! But my social interaction for the past year has been limited to Carlos the delivery driver."

Connor raised an eyebrow. "I know I should be concerned that you are on a first name basis with a delivery driver, but we have more important things to deal with."

He ruffled her hair affectionately.

"You can do this." He said smiling reassuringly.

Sawyer took several deep breaths, trying to gather herself before stepping out the door. A tidal wave of screams erupted from the gathered crowd the moment they stepped into the light, the sudden noise catching her off guard. Several members of the press immediately surged forward, shoving microphones in her direction and shouting their questions to be heard over the cheering of the crowd.

"Sawyer, over here!"

"This way!"

"Do you have anything to say to the people of Cordonia?"

Sawyer fixed her face into a careful smile, putting on an air of calm that she did not feel. She could hear her heart pounding loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the roar of the voices around her. Connor gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, obviously sensing her tension.

"It's okay, you've got this." He said quietly in her ear.

"Excuse me! Out of the way!" A dignified and commanding voice rose above the chatter of the reporters. Sawyer glanced around, spotting a refined looking woman pushing her way through the swarm of media.

"You will take your hands off of me at once! I am the Royal Communications Director! So help me if you touch me again I will ensure that you are permanently reassigned to report on the impact of pig breeding for the rest of your career." The reporters immediately took a respectful step back upon hearing her threat, allowing the woman to approach Connor and Sawyer. She stepped towards them, smoothing her dress and adopting an exaggerated air of importance.

"I apologize for this barbaric media circus. Clearly the words 'respectable distance' are lost on these vultures."

Connor smiled respectfully, extending his hand to the woman. "You must be Madeleine."

Madeleine gave Connor a once-over before accepting his outstretched hand, offering a smile which did not quite meet her piercing eyes. Her platinum hair was perfectly styled, without so much as a single strand out of place. She had the refined featured of an aristocrat, and the air of someone who thought the rest of the world was somehow beneath her.

"I expect you have questions, but I suggest we discuss things a little less...common." She turned on her heel before they could respond, sauntering off in the direction of a nearby limo.

"Wow." Sawyer said eyeing her retreating figure. "I think some flowers wilted as she walked by."

Connor tilted his head, a sly smile on his face as he studied her. Her form fitting dress clung tightly to her curves, leaving little to the imagination as she walked away. "Wow is right."

"Ugh, why are you like this?" Sawyer said, rolling her eyes.

Connor laughed as they made their way down the tarmac. Sawyer kept her eyes focused ahead while Connor hurried to catch up to Madeleine, leaving her trailing behind. The flashes of the cameras and the continuous shouts from the crowd were an unwelcome intrusion into Sawyer's self inflicted exile. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for her to stumble. She could hear the hidden meaning behind their seemingly innocent questions. She felt like an attraction at the zoo, being provoked as the visitors rattled the bars around her enclosure.

They were only a short distance from the limo when someone at the front of the crowd caught Sawyer's attention. A young girl who could not have been older than eleven waited just behind the ropes, the bright pink cast on her arm clearly visible as she leaned forward. Sawyer's mind suddenly filled with visions of a young Peyton, her arm covered in a cast that looked identical to the one this girl now wore.

"Look, mom there she is!" She said excitedly to the woman next to her. She frantically waved in Sawyer's direction, a hopeful look in her eyes as she approached. Sawyer glanced at Connor and Madeleine who were deep in conversation, paying her no attention. She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before walking towards the girl. She took a steadying breath, offering a smile she hoped was inviting as she stepped in front of the girl and her mother. The girl's eyes were alight with excitement.

"Sawyer! Would you sign this for me?" She indicated to her cast that was covered with numerous signatures, except for one spot which was devoid of any writing.

"Sure." Sawyer answered, ignoring the tightening in her chest as she took the marker from her. She gently wrote a few words of encouragement and a hastily signed signature across the surface. She handed the pen back to the now beaming child, unable to stop a genuine grin from spreading across her own face.

Cameras flashed in her direction, followed by the excited murmurs of the various reporters.

"...first public appearance in a year."

"...a soft spot for children?"

"...possibly feeling guilty for-"

Connor appeared suddenly next to her, taking her by the arm and guiding her away from the scene. "You're doing great," he muttered in her ear. The tarmac seemed to stretch on forever as they approached the awaiting limo, the chatter of the gathered people echoing in her ears even as she stepped inside the vehicle. She breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed, drowning out the chaos outside.

"You alright?" Connor said, handing her a bottle of water.

"Super. Can you look up 'aneurysm' on your phone to see if I just had one?"

"I'm forbidding you from dying. You'll just use it as an excuse to get out of this."

Sawyer kicked him hard in the shin, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face as he grunted in pain.

Madeleine cleared her throat pointedly, staring at them with a look that could curdle fresh milk. "If you are quite finished with the facetious bickering, perhaps we could discuss what to expect while you are here?"

Sawyer snorted. "I'm sorry, and you are...?"

"Madeleine, however my _official_ title is Royal Communications Director. It's therefore my responsibility to ensure that your visit here runs as smoothly and _productively_ as possible."

Sawyer glanced at Connor who simply held his hands up in mock surrender, indicating he had no desire to engage in what was sure to be a bloody battle of wits. She turned her attention back to Madeleine, offering the most condescending smile she could muster.

"Well, your Royal Newsie, what do you suggest?"

Madeleine studied her for a moment, debating rather it was worth her energy to acknowledge the insult. Ultimately, she decided it was not and continued. "Rule number one: if you want to win over the Cordonian people, you have to first win over the press. That stunt with the girl in the loud colored cast was a good start, it will definitely make the front page."

Sawyer gaped at her. "Compassion is considered a stunt where you're from?"

"Where I am from, is a country that has seen more than it's fair share of disasters. And unlike the more popular countries, the media has paid little to no attention to those affected. If turning an act of kindness into a worthy news story will help our cause then rest assured, I will make sure every news source from here to Canada hears about it."

Madeleine took a steadying breath, trying to regain her composure. "Now then, the first step to winning over the people is to show them how much you love their country. Let them know how inspired you are to be here with them."

Sawyer glanced out the window, noting the people wearing the latest fashions from all over the world. Even the animals seemed to be faring well, with flashy collars and expensive looking haircuts.

"Oh, yeah. I'm definitely feeling inspired by all of the diamond studded collars. Maybe I'll start working on my new song called _Bougie Cats_."

Connor snorted while Madeleine settled for looking incredulous. "I am hereby banning any use of the words 'bougie' and 'cats' in any context while you are here."

"What about _pretentious felines_?" Sawyer said without skipping a beat.

"I did try to warn you," Connor said to Madeleine, obviously amused.

Madeleine rubbed her temples, exhaling an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not sure what grievous sin I committed to be punished with the presence of you and Maxwell, but so help me if you do anything to derail this-"

"Relax, already." Sawyer said, her normal broody expression returning to her face. "We agreed I would help, so I'll help."

Madeleine fixed Sawyer with a calculating stare, her piercing eyes studying her carefully for any sign of deceit or mockery. "Glad to hear it."

They rode the rest of the way without incident, discussing strategy and timelines before finally pulling up to the hotel. Connor had turned down the offer to stay at the palace, not wanting to feel any more out of place than they already did. Thus far, it had been the only decision he had made that Sawyer had not challenged.

Madeleine rolled down the window, offering one last piece of advice before they parted. "We have a few days before we are due at the palace, I suggest you use that time to get acquainted with the country. There's more to it than meets the eye."

The limo sped away before they had the chance to respond. They stared after the vehicle for several moments, each trying to wrap their head around the welcoming committee that had been Madeleine.

"That is by far, the most intense introduction I have ever experienced," Sawyer said as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "And I've been to Moscow."

"Right?" Connor said as they made their way inside. "I just hope the rest of the locals are a little less..."

"Icy?"

"Exactly."

Sawyer waited in the lobby as Connor checked them in. She had done enough interacting for the day and was more than happy to let him do the talking for the rest of the day. He returned shortly after, tossing her a key card. "I got us suites on different floors. You're welcome."

"Aw, but who will I harass on those sleepless nights?"

"I could give you Madeleine's number," he replied, leading them towards the elevator. I'm sure she would love to hear the opening riff to _Bougie Cats_."

Sawyer grinned, clearly amused with herself. "I'm tempted to write it just to see how fast I can get the vein in her forehead to pulsate."

"You're completely evil."

"Well, someone has to balance you out."

They stepped into the elevator, watching in silence as the numbers slowly climbed, stopping every few floors to allow more passengers into the car. She tensed slightly as a few of them glanced in her direction, but thankfully nobody seemed to recognize her. The elevator finally stopped on her floor and she gratefully stepped into the hall.

"I'll come check on you later," Connor said kissing the top of her head affectionately.

"My hero," she said, trying but failing to hide her smile.

She made her way down the hallway, stopping in front of room 1669. A childish smirk formed on her lips as she opened the door, gratefully stepping inside her own private sanctuary. She closed the door behind her, sighing in relief as she finally found some much needed alone time. The full weight of what she was expected to do had not fully hit her, and when it did she would prefer to have her impending mental breakdown in privacy. She tossed her bag across the room, taking in her surroundings.

The living room was large and spacious, with a beautiful bay window overlooking the busy streets below. A picturesque harbor could be seen in the distance, with boats of varying sizes and color floating in the water. An adjoining bedroom featured a large pillow top bed with more pillows that was necessary for a single person to be comfortable. She crossed the room to the kitchen area, ignoring the large flat screen television and surrounding couches, heading straight for the wet bar and pouring herself a generous glass of gin.

A large fruit basket rested on the counter, complete with a welcome message. She absently grabbed the card, glancing quickly over the default greeting. She paused as she read the words, her glass halfway to her lips as the words stared back at her from the card.

 _Welcome to Cordonia! We hope you enjoy this complimentary apple basket, the finest the kingdom has to offer._

Sawyer stared at the card, her mind trying to process exactly what she was reading. _Apple_ basket. Not _fruit_ basket, but simply _apple_ basket.

"Where the hell am I?!"


	5. Lost

_As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped, and movement stopped for much, much more than a a moment. And then the moment was gone."_

 _-John Steinbeck_

Connor awoke abruptly in his suite after an impromptu three hour nap, somehow feeling both better and yet much worse than he had before. He was at the mercy of jet lag, but he had promised to check in on Sawyer before the night was over, and Connor Brooks never broke a promise. After a quick shower, he made his way down towards Sawyer's suite.

The sounds of angry shouting greeted him the moment he stepped off the elevator. He only caught glimpses of what they were saying, but judging by the creative expletives he was able to make out, there could be no doubt about who the shouts were coming from.

He cautiously rapped his knuckles on Sawyer's door, jumping slightly as it jerked open almost immediately. Sawyer's face was an angry shade of red from shouting, her eyes burning with a deep rage. He did not have to ask who was on the other end of the line, there was only one person who was able to get this particular type of reaction from Sawyer: their mother.

He could hear her angry screeches from the other end of the line, the familiar high pitch in her voice indicating she was either very high or very drunk. Probably both. Sawyer pulled the device away from her ear with a grimace.

"Last time I checked," Sawyer responded, shouting into the phone. "I do not need to inform you of _anything_ that I do! And you lost any right to throw the word _mother_ around after everything you've done!"

Their mother's indignant response sounded from the other end, clearly unhappy with Sawyer's refusal to back down. "I have _every_ right to throw that in your face! You don't get to pull all of your bullshit and then come to me expecting a handout when we both know _exactly_ what it's for!"

Connor tensed as he clearly heard the woman mention their father. Sawyer's flimsy hold on her emotions finally gave out, an angry scream erupting from her as she threw the phone across the room with impressive strength. The remains of the overpriced device went flying in every direction as it shattered against the wall.

A tense silence hung in the room, broken only by Sawyer's heavy breathing. Connor knew better than to speak at the moment; he would only be putting himself in the line of fire. He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the wet bar, sipping the liquid quietly as he waited for Sawyer to calm down.

After several moments, Sawyer's breathing returned to normal, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"How _is_ mommy dearest?" He said, once he deemed it safe to speak.

"Feeling overly entitled because we share the same DNA. You know, the usual." Sawyer ran her fingers through her hair, flopping down onto one of the nearby couches. "I guess she found out I was here and assumed I was making money again and decided it was time for a reunion."

"Sucks for her. We aren't getting paid for this." Connor said, smirking playfully.

Sawyer raised an eyebrow.

"Well, at least _you_ aren't."

Sawyer laughed softly in spite of herself. "Remind me to fire you later."

Her smile vanished instantly as she rose to her feet with a heavy sigh. "I need to get out of here."

"You're actually _choosing_ to go outside?" Connor asked, downing the last of his drink.

"Blood boiling rage does that to me. You want to come?"

"Nah, I have a Jacuzzi tub and over priced movie channels waiting for me. I'd tell you to call if you need me but-" he trailed off, indicating the remains of Sawyer's phone.

"Right. I'll try not to get kidnapped or anything."

"I wouldn't worry about that, they would return you after an hour because you're so damn annoying."

He laughed as she playfully punched him in the shoulder. He kissed her affectionately on the top of her head before leaving to return to his suite to engage in what was sure to be a long night of binge watching poorly produced slasher movies.

Sawyer rummaged through the bag she had not bothered to unpack, pulling on the first sweatshirt she found. She turned to leave, frowning as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair had been pulled into a messy side braid, with several hairs sticking out at odd angels. The dark circles under her eyes seemed to be getting darker by the moment, revealing just how long it had been since she had slept. She was certain if she were to walk outside like this back in Los Angeles, people would start offering her money thinking she was homeless.

She sighed, deciding it was not worth the effort to doll herself up. It would help her to keep a low profile as she wandered the streets. And besides, it wasn't as if she was meeting anyone important. She grabbed the complimentary map from the end table before making her way out of the hotel. A small group of people were gathered in the hotel lobby as she stepped off the elevator. They watched her closely, whispering excitedly among themselves as she walked by. Her chest tightened as she quickly made her way to the large glass doors that stood between her and freedom. She half expected them to approach her, to ask her for a picture or ask if she was really who they thought she was.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the fresh night air greeted her. She closed her eyes as a cool breeze blew through her hair. After nearly a year of avoiding the outside world, she had forgotten how calming the fresh air could be.

She walked down the scarcely occupied streets, glancing nervously at everyone who walked by. Much to her relief, they either smiled politely or simply chose to ignore her altogether. She finally relaxed after walking several blocks without incident, pulling out the map and leaning against a nearby lamp post to get a feel for where she was. She knew she would eventually need to get a new phone, but she doubted she could accomplish that so late at night. Besides, she did not care to endure the judgmental looks from the employees as they searched how many times she had purchased a replacement.

She silently cursed herself, feeling suddenly ashamed for once again letting her mother get the better of her. The thing that infuriated Sawyer the most was that even after so many years, her mother still knew which buttons to press to get a rise out of her. She was not a violent or angry person by nature, but when it came to her mother she found it impossible to swallow her rage, and she found that deeply disturbing. It was as if her mother had some hold over her that she could never seem to break free of. She envied Connor for his ability to remain calm when it came to their parents, which was no doubt a product of his military training. Peyton on the other hand preferred to pretend they had no parents at all, and they were simply hatched from a stork egg.

If there was ever a poster family for broken homes and dysfunctional relationships, the Brooks family would be the obvious candidate. There were times when a small part of her still hoped they could set aside past offenses and try to be a family. But then she would remember the full list of those offenses, and her anger would once again win out. In truth, her own family's warped idea of love had been enough to turn her off the idea completely. She had dated of course, and been intimate with her share of partners, but the idea of falling in love was both absurd and terrifying.

"You look lost." A sweetly accented voice said next to her.

Sawyer glanced up from the map, immediately freezing in place the moment she laid eyes on the girl who had spoken. It was as if fate had searched every corner of her being, discovered everything she found desirable in a person, and placed them directly in front of her.

Her silky brown hair fell well past her shoulders, blowing softly in the gentle breeze that had picked up. Her tanned skin glowed in the light of the street lamps as the moon shone behind her like a halo, giving her a truly angelic appearance. Her kind smile reached all the way to her dark, almond shaped eyes, which seemed to hold the entirety of the universe within them.

The world around them seemed to stop as they looked at each other, the moment seeming to stretch on forever. After what felt like both an eternity, and yet no time at all, Sawyer cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Uh..."


	6. Monsters And Men

**A/N: Lyric credit goes to Blink 182, shamelessly borrowed from the song "Pretty Little Girl".**

* * *

 _Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone._

 _-Octavio Paz_

Connor sat in the backseat of the brand new Range Rover that had been purchased only hours before. Sawyer had bought the car on the spot, the first brand new car anyone in their family had ever purchased. He smiled softly as he watched his younger sisters in the front seat, their happy laughter filling the car as they tested the durability of the speakers by playing the radio at full volume. Peyton had insisted on breaking in Sawyer's new car by playing her music at full volume as they drove through the city streets. The notes that Sawyer had once scribbled in her high school notebooks were now coming from the speakers, her voice accompanied by music that she had written herself.

 _We'd forget that our lives being apart it is hard_

 _We'd thought we were close but it still feels far_

 _Can we learn to get by if we learn to have scars_

 _If we learn to forgive and accept who we are_

Connor closed his eyes, a genuine smile forming on his face for the first time since he could remember. A single thought formed in his mind as they drove through the city:

 _We made it._

They had done what they had always sworn to do: they had escaped the nightmare they had called a childhood, and the monsters they were forced to call mom and dad. They had survived, even when the odds had been stacked against them. The Brooks siblings had managed to claw their way out of their miserable existence and make a future for themselves, one that they were completely in control of.

 _We'll sit and relax as we cheer in the morrow_

 _The ropes to the light from the crypt to the grave_

 _We started alone in the end we're okay_

A high pitched scream suddenly filled the car, followed immediately by the sickening sound of crunching metal, and the shattering of glass. Connor felt his head smash violently into the window, his vision blurring momentarily before slipping into darkness.

* * *

Connor started awake, breathing heavily as he surveyed his surroundings. Rather than the backseat of a car, he found himself safely back in his suite in Cordonia. The screams that had woken him came from the television, specifically from a scantily clad woman running away from a masked maniac wielding a machete. He watched absently as the killer caught up to her, slicing her head clean off with a heavy stroke of his blood soaked blade. Connor hardly blinked, the blood and gore having no impact on him. He had been watching horror movies ever since he was a child, forcing himself to watch every single gory detail no matter how scary. He knew that the monsters in the movies weren't real, but they still frightened him nonetheless. He forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen, even when his instincts were begging him to avert his eyes. It was not because he was a disturbed child with a twisted fascination with blood and death; he watched them because he was teaching himself not to be afraid. If he could overcome his fear of the fictional monsters in the movies, then he could move on to overcoming his fear of the real monster in his life: his father.

Malcolm Brooks was a brute of a man, who gambled away his family's entire savings on poker games and bad business ventures. When things were not going his way, he would take out his frustrations on the only ones who could not stand up to him: his children. At first, it would only be simple spankings for minor offenses, but soon his children were forced to make up one excuse after another to explain away a bruise or a scar. It was not until he had nearly popped Sawyer's arm out of it's socket that Connor decided to do something. He could handle the beatings, he had learned to tense his body against his father's blows to lessen the sting of the impact. But watching his younger sisters be mistreated while he was powerless to stop it was something he could not, and _would not_ endure.

When things began escalating, Connor would hide his sisters wherever he could. The tool shed, the tree house, the cellar-anywhere he was able to quickly hide them. He would tell them to stay there until he came for them, making them promise to stay out of sight until he told them it was safe. When Malcolm could see there was nowhere else to channel his anger, he would settle for unleashing his aggression on Connor. Connor would take the punishment, the thought of his sisters hidden safely away giving him the strength to endure their father's unfair treatment. Once he was finished, he would leave his son cowering on the floor, leaving to find himself another drink. Once he was certain the danger had passed, Connor would go and collect the girls, ushering them to their room before their father had discovered what they had done.

As he got older, Connor started spending every spare moment he could in the gym. He was determined to bulk himself up, to become faster and stronger until he was able to meet his father blow for blow. His hard work and determination finally paid off, and by the time he turned sixteen he matched his father in both stature and strength. Things became easier for a time, mainly due to the fact Malcolm was wary of engaging Connor in any physical altercation, so he settled on verbal insults instead. The children did not care much, they much preferred his clumsy insults to his blind rage.

When Connor turned eighteen, he found himself faced with a choice. He knew he could not stay in his parent's house forever, and truth be told he was desperate to escape his miserable home life. But he was not sure exactly how to go about doing that, and the thought of leaving Peyton and Sawyer behind and at the mercy of their father made him sick to his stomach. But he had no savings, and no skills that would allow him to escape, let alone provide a life for himself and his sisters. He felt as if he was wandering around in a dark tunnel, and the only light came from an oncoming train that was heading straight towards him.

His answer finally came in the form of a recruiter visiting his high school campus one day. Connor had never really considered a career in the military, but after chatting with the recruiter and doing excessive research, he signed the papers and joined the Marines the moment he turned eighteen. He knew it would mean leaving Peyton and Sawyer behind, but it was only temporary. Once he had completed training and was stable enough he would come back for them.

He still remembered the desperation in Sawyer's eyes, silently pleading with him not to leave her behind. She had been fourteen when he had left, and Peyton was barely seven. He hugged them one last time before he left, promising that he would come back for them as soon as he could. The guilt he had felt in that moment was overwhelming, and as he left his parents house for the final time, he felt angry tears stinging his eyes. It was the first time in his life that he could ever remember crying, and the pain he felt at leaving his sisters in the hands of their father threatened to break him. But he had to be strong, he could not allow himself to lose sight of his goal.

While he had been deployed overseas, he made it a point to write home to his sisters as often as possible. He would tell them about where he was, the people he had met, his friends and comrades, both those who were still with him and the ones who no longer were. He would tell them of his plans for their future, promising that they were always one day closer to being together and being a family again, a family free of their parents. He wrote as often as he was able, always looking for a few quiet moments to be alone with his thoughts where he could feel close to his sisters again. He wrote to them both, but only Peyton ever wrote back. He only received one letter from Sawyer, a birthday card with a hastily scribbled generic greeting. It was the only letter he ever received from her, but it meant the world to Connor. Sawyer had no way of knowing, but he carried that letter around with him everywhere when he was deployed. It might have been the only letter he ever received from her, but it made it all the more special to him.

It took several years, but after Sawyer had passed her angry teenage years, she finally conceded that she did not blame him for leaving. She had been angry no doubt, but her anger stemmed from the situation she was in. She had directed that anger towards Connor for leaving, when the reality of it was that she had simply missed him and had been jealous of his newfound freedom. The first night in Sawyer's new apartment she had tearfully thanked him for everything he did for her and Peyton and apologized for shutting him out for so long.

Sawyer had forgiven him, but he still was not ready to forgive himself. Not only for leaving his sisters in the hands of a monster, but for everything that had happened after the accident that had ultimately altered four lives forever. It ran so much deeper than the damage done to Sawyer's reputation and career, she knew exactly what she was doing when she accepted responsibility. An innocent woman was now paralyzed, and the Brooks siblings had all played a part in it. After the media had moved on, and the lawyers had been paid, Connor once again felt himself becoming detached from his sisters.

He had thrown himself into what little work he was able to find in an effort to quiet the guilty conscious that was constantly screaming at him. He would begin the minute the son rose to well after it set, hardly allowing anything to distract him.

Sawyer had gone into self inflicted exile. Cutting off all forms of contact with the outside world, save for a few scattered conversations with Connor and Peyton. Connecting with each other had become increasingly more difficult since Connor had opted to drown himself in his career. After several missed calls and unanswered texts, communication between them slowed and eventually stopped.

Peyton had been accepted to her dream school, Brown University. She had been especially traumatized by the accident, and similar to Connor had opted to throw herself into her studies to distract herself. Eventually, the anxiety became too much and the frequent nightmares and panic attacks had led Connor and Sawyer to beg her to see a therapist. After some hesitation, she had finally agreed. She was still not the same outgoing person she once was, but at least she was not debilitated by frequent anxiety attacks.

Despite Connor's best efforts, he once again found the family he had worked so hard to rebuild slowly drifting apart. It was part of the reason he had so readily agreed to come to Cordonia in the first place. He knew that what they were doing was for a good cause, and Cordonia really did need a hand with getting help to its people, but Connor also hoped to begin to mend the rift between Sawyer and himself. If he could do that, then maybe they could work together to get through to Peyton. They had come too far, and had been through too much together to let themselves be divided now. He would no longer find an excuse to run and hide rather than deal with the problem. He would be there for his sisters, and he would find a way to be a family again.

He took a long, slow sip of the whiskey he had poured himself earlier, feeling his mind become altered with the effects of the expensive liquid. He sighed as he felt the liquid warm his throat before rising to his feet and crossing the room to the small kitchen. He dumped the remaining contents of the glass down the sink, watching as the last drop swirled and eventually disappeared down the drain.


	7. What's in a Name

_Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it's yours._

 _-_ Ayn Rand

* * *

"You look lost."

Sawyer continued to stare at the girl in front of her, feeling her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She was beautiful in way that Sawyer could not explain; it was not just the girl's flawless physical appearance that left Sawyer mesmerized, but something that seemed to come from her very soul. She radiated with a beauty that seemed to stem from within her, it was something that Sawyer had never seen before, and she found herself inexplicably drawn to her. She realized that she was staring and cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to remember how to speak.

"Is it that obvious?" She finally responded, her voice a slightly higher pitch than usual.

The girl laughed softly. "Just a little. I must admit, it's been a while since I've seen anyone use a map that wasn't displayed on a phone screen."

Sawyer smiled sheepishly. "My phone is...malfunctioning. So, I figured I would take a trip back to the dark ages when people actually had to _read_ a map to figure out where they were going."

"And do you have any ideas on that so far?"

"None whatsoever."

"Well, if you're up for it, we could return to this century and I could give you a tour. I can promise to at least provide more engaging conversation than a map."

Sawyer thought for a moment, surprised to find herself actually _wanting_ to spend time with another human. For reasons she could not explain, she felt at ease around her, despite the fact that they had only just met. There was a calming presence about her, a certain gentleness that made Sawyer feel at ease. She seemed to have no idea of who Sawyer was or why she was here, and that alone was a huge comfort to her. She treated her as any other person, not as a washed up has-been trying to salvage what little remained of her career.

Before she was even sure she had made up her mind, she tossed the map into a nearby bin with a smile.

"Lead the way."

The girl smiled warmly, causing Sawyer's heart to flutter strangely. It was a strange sensation that she could not place, so she simply attributed it to her limited social interaction over the course of the last year.

"I'm Hana by the way," the girl said as she led them down the quiet street.

"Sawyer."

"That's an unusual name. Is there a story behind it?"

"Kind of. My grandpa is the one who named me. He had a slight obsession with Mark Twain, and it kind of became a running joke."

"Ah, Sawyer as in Tom Sawyer then."

"You guessed it. He even used to call my grandmother his Becky Thatcher even though her name was Rose."

"That's very sweet. And did you inherit his love of Mark Twain?"

"I tried to. My grandpa used to read me his books when I was little, so I guess love him because of that memory. But honestly I prefer John Steinbeck."

" _An unbelieved truth can hurt a man much more than a lie._ " Hana quoted effortlessly.

Sawyer stared at her, her mouth hanging open slightly.

Hana smiled sheepishly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Sorry, that was probably too much."

"No, not at all. Sorry, I've just never met anyone that could quote Steinbeck at the drop of a hat."

Hana's cheeks blushed a delicate pink. "I didn't have many friends when I was a child. I rarely had any spare time anyway, but when I did I would spend hours in my room reading."

"Any favorites?"

"I've read so many wonderful books, but if I had to choose just one I would say _Pride and Prejudice_."

" _But people themselves alter so much_..." Sawyer began.

"... _that there is something new to be observed in them forever._ " Hana finished, looking at Sawyer with a mixture of delight and more than a little surprise.

"Seems we have something in common," Sawyer said with a shrug.

The two of them wandered down the streets, discussing books and favorite authors as Hana occasionally pointed out a landmark or a shop. Soon the world around them lay forgotten as they chatted, finding a quiet comfort in each other's company as they freely shared their interests and ideas with one another without fear of judgement.

"Recently I have come to develop an appreciation for Ayn Rand," Hana said as they rounded a street corner.

"You're joking!" Sawyer responded playfully. "She's a political nut. I still can't tell you with certainty what _Atlas Shrugged_ is about, but the month I spent trudging through it is precious time I will never get back."

"I'll admit she is a bit of an acquired taste. But once you get past the overly intricate plot lines, there is a certain complexity to her writings that is rather impressive. After all, it's not every day a writer coins their own philosophical system that amasses a following."

Sawyer opened her mouth to respond, but paused as they passed a massive bookstore. An idea forming in her mind as she turned to Hana, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Are you up for a little game?"

Hana raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't worry, it's not the kind where you end up kidnapped. I don't have my getaway car."

Hana smiled, her eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. "That's comforting. What did you have in mind?"

Sawyer inclined her head towards the glass doors leading to the shop. "A shopping game. But the rules are we have to pick something for the other person, and it has to be something we don't think they would pick out for themselves. And we have to promise to read it, no matter what it is. Are you in?"

Hana thought for a moment, a wide grin spreading across her face as she nodded in agreement. "Sounds like fun."

Sawyer opened the door, allowing Hana to pass through first. "If you bring me _Atlas Shrugged_ I'm going to retract my promise not to kidnap you."

Hana laughed, a sweet angelic sound that disappeared far too quickly. "Deal."

They entered the shop, immediately splitting off in different directions, each seeming to have the perfect book in mind for each other. It was less than ten minutes before they met back outside, exchanging their purchases.

"So, what happens now?" Hana asked curiously as they made their way back to the hotel.

"This is the part where we promise to read whatever book we got. And make another promise to keep in touch to make sure we are fulfilling our first promise."

"So, was this all just an elaborate ploy to see me again?" Hana asked, smirking slightly.

"Maybe in part," Sawyer responded feeling suddenly awkward. "I mean it's definitely a perk. But something tells me you don't do this type of thing very often."

"This type of thing as in shopping?"

"As in being spontaneous. Just let go and have fun, do something you actually enjoy."

A look of surprise flashed briefly in Hana's eyes, but her features remained poised and dignified. "Is this the part where I tell you not to judge a book by its cover?"

Sawyer let out a small laugh, surprised at how genuine it felt. "Fair point. But if the cover is any indication, what's inside is better than you can imagine."

Her words surprised even herself, and she found herself wondering when she had emerged from her shell and decided to make an actual connection with someone. They paused outside the hotel, each seeming reluctant to part from each other's company.

"I hope tonight proved to be more fun than staring at a map." Hana said smiling.

"Much more fun. The company was certainly more pleasant."

"I'll take that as high praise."

"You definitely should. After all, I was quite fond of that map."

To Sawyer's surprise, Hana leaned and placed a delicate kiss to her cheek. She could still feel the whisper of her lips lingering on her skin even after she pulled away.

"Goodnight, Sawyer."

"Goodnight."

They reluctantly parted ways, each feeling lighter than they ever remembered feeling.

* * *

Hana sat in her room later that night smiling softly as she replayed the night in her mind. Hana had never felt such a deep connection with another person, even Riley for all her views and experiences had never been able to so deeply discuss literature with such passion and insight. Sawyer was unlike anyone Hana had ever encountered, she was clearly full of passion but there was a haunted look in her eyes that hinted she had been through more than Hana could ever fathom. Whatever her past may have been, Hana was drawn to her in a way she could not explain. She seemed to be able to read Hana despite the fact they had just met, and that idea both thrilled and terrified her.

She reached into the brown paper bag, pulling out the book that Sawyer had chosen for her; _The Alchemist._ A subtle indentation had been made in one of the pages, clearly made intentionally to grab her attention. She opened to the page, her eyes immediately drawn to a highlighted portion of the page.

 _The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them._

Hana smiled to herself, gently running her finger over the highlighted sentence. She flipped to the first page of the book, immediately immersing herself into the simple but beautiful writing.

It was well past midnight before she finally succumbed to exhaustion, allowing the images of the night lull her to sleep.

* * *

Sawyer lay sprawled out on the bed in her hotel room, staring absently at the ceiling. For the first time since she could remember, she didn't feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had come to Cordonia with her heart and mind completely closed off, having no desire to do more than the bare minimum when it came to social interaction. Somehow, in their brief meeting, Hana had managed to remind her that there was still good left in the world. There was a quiet gentleness about her that Sawyer found refreshing, she was one of the rare people who were kind and good by nature without any ulterior motive guiding their actions. There was something about her that drew Sawyer to her. She brushed her fingers over the place Hana had kissed her, surprised to find herself smiling.

She stared at the cover of the book Hana had chosen for her, tracing her fingers over the letters; _Fanshawe_. She had never read Hawthorne before, and she rather liked the idea that her first experience would be associated with the way she was feeling right now.

She carefully opened the book, an elegantly written message on the front cover immediately catching her eye.

 _A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities._

She stared at the message, a genuine smile creeping over her face for the first time since she could remember. She did not know if it had anything to do with the fact that she had lived in solitude for the better part of a year, but feeling a real connection to someone felt better than she ever thought it could. The fact that Hana did not know who she was felt like a breath of fresh air. She was able to be herself for the first time in a long time, and that feeling was not something she could put into words.

Her eyes flitted to the corner of the room, settling on her guitar who had remained untouched since the accident. She crossed the room, picking up the instrument carefully, surprised by the familiarity she felt. She sat crossed legged on the floor, absently plucking a few strings as the first lines of a song began forming in her head.

 _Born into eyes not by my own decision_

 _Take me away from a life with no vision_


End file.
